Life or live
by N. Harrow
Summary: A little poem of words used in a way. I had no other categorie to put it.
1. Chapter 1

I looked back to the Vreeter,

Only to find a Crook full of juice.

The simple thing is to retreat,

When you are unaware of the surprises you may meet.

Beware beware of the looks,

They may deceive you very quickly,

Only to find that you are alone,

With your life, your dreams and your past.

Live it to the fullest,

Live it to pieces,

Live or live not tis not the question,

It is you to decide to leave or to live,

In a second, all could be lost.


	2. Chapter 2

O, the dodo birds sing in a mysterious way,

What wonder it is to my ears.

I wonder where they go, the noise of a million birds,

Far to the world of the world,

A world of imagination and creativity,

Seek the sound of a beautiful dodo bird,

And all of your dreams will come true.

The melodic tune is enchanting,

Enchanting enough to find the world of imagination and creativity.

Why whisper your life,

Why not scream your life,

Like the mysterious sing of a dodo bird.


	3. Chapter 3

The Boothlesnap came to me in a harsh way,

_Very well indeed_

The sea was so bright and fluorescent,

_We throw our lives away_

The rain came quickly, coldly and wistfully,

_Only to see what went wrong_

The Boothlesnap breaths and coldly dries,

_We do not see everything_

The wind comes, the mildness comes also,

_When we see, we are not prepared_

The Boothlesnap is ready to attack

_The Boothlesnap attacked, the Boothlesnap died._


	4. Chapter 4

When we live, we like it,

When we breath, we breath it,

When we like it, we live it,

When we don't, we simply don't,

When we live, we be nice,

When we don't, we won't,

When we seek, we find,

When we find, we don't seek,

Only to see, common sense.


	5. Chapter 5

The dark tulip, sitting on my leg,

Reminding of past, present and future,

Of the wildering times, the heartbreaking moments,

The miserable delights, the obscure faith,

The common of evil, the devil itself,

The moment of my life, unreeling, reveling,

So distant, yet so close,

The radiating energy from the tulip,

It stuns my eyes but had nothing to see,

As the tulip, reminder of past present and future disappeared,

I wondered to myself, have I ever lived?


	6. Chapter 6

Will-o-wisp carrying me ahead, the Behemoth straight forward,

Despite the fact of its repulsive features,

Life went on, but only of a single vision of the monster,

Books came down, only to find a picture of a donkey,

Kneeling in front of a campfire.

The floor was squeaky clean, destroying our young minds,

Don't ask me why.

Only Shakespeare could compare to what I felt, because,

Like Prince Charles, he had a big nose, not that it matters.

Why not bungee jump? It's an excellent relaxing method.


	7. Chapter 7

Life is a great gift,

One chooses to abuse this gift; one shall take his last breath,

Because life is not to be wasted, not knowing all,

But simply lived to its full potential.

Life is strict if these laws are not prohibited,

Its punishment is death itself,

Why live in complete misery, when you can breathe happily,

If I were to choose, I think I would know.

But if you have the chance,

Know what is right,

And what is wrong.


	8. Chapter 8

The truth, the signs, I miss them all,

I fail to see what is in front of me,

I fail because I refuse to see,

I refuse to see what I wish to seek,

I control it all, choose what I see,

I see it now, what I disclosed from my mind,

The truth,

The truth and nothing more, nothing less,

My mistakes, my mistake is the truth,

But what is the truth?

Figure it out with my words.


	9. Chapter 9

Sorrow; despite of the pain I saw absolute silence.

In this bliss, I discovered death,

A weird feeling it was, not being connected,

Being a non-being shows the mistakes of others,

My discovery was not able to be shared,

Not able to seek,

Not able to find,

The emptiness cramped me, claustrophobia swept me,

But then, at that precise moment, I remembered nothing.

Who was I?

What was I?

Where was I?

Why was I?


	10. Chapter 10

When Mozart lived, he died,

When Joan of Arc died, she lived,

When people live, they don't die,

When people die, they do die for real.


	11. Chapter 11

What to write is a cruel world.

It is how you right though that makes the difference.

Thank you for reading my first post...


End file.
